The Third Step Prayer can be found on page 63 of the Big Book, second paragraph:
God, I offer myself to Thee -
to build with me and do with me as Thou wilt.
Relieve me of the bondage of self,
that I may better do Thy will.
Take away my difficulties,
that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help
of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life.
May I do Thy will always!
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
Escalator
Life is like an escalator. If you aren't taking steps forward, you're just moving backwards.
(I heard this in meeting tonight.)
(I heard this in meeting tonight.)
That First Step's A Doozie
The speaker at my meeting this evening talked a lot about the steps. He expressed something that resonated with me: he couldn't start the program until he was willing to take the first step. Of course, he was referring to the actual First Step: We admitted we were powerless over food - that our lives had become unmanageable.
While in a step study meeting focused on the Sixth Step (were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character), one speaker stated that we are always ready to have the consequences of our defects removed if not the defect itself. We cling to our defects like treasured friends. So too do we cling to the notion that we are not compulsive overeaters. We may want to have the symptom removed - our excess weight - but we are often not ready to admit that the excess weight was brought on by our powerlessness over food.
I have heard the road to recovery begins when you take that step into the door of your first meeting. But the fact remains that recovery simply will not happen until you are able to admit that there is something you need to recover from. As the Big Book says, "Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely." (Page 58)
I walked into my first meeting to be moral support for a friend. A very clever friend who knew exactly what I was even if I didn't know it myself. At the end of the meeting, I was able to declare with absolute certainty that I was a compulsive overeater. I marched up to the speaker and asked her to be my sponsor that very same meeting.
The problem was, I didn't necessarily believe that I was powerless over food, and I most certainly didn't believe that my life was unmanageable! I had done quite well for myself - or so I believed. All I needed was someone to help me with a food plan and to give me accountability. Then I would lose my weight, keep following my food plan, and not need to worry about silly things like meetings. You see, I had it all figured out.
Every time I asked my sponsor when we would start doing step work, she would tell me that we were: we were working on the first step. I would protest, "but I already admitted I was a compulsive overeater." She would just smile and tell me to trust her. So for months I was performing exercises designed to show me that my life was unmanageable. I just didn't realize that was what we were doing.
The exercise that caused me the most pain and suffering was so innocuous that I never suspected what I was in for. I was told to perform one simple task: write down three things you love about yourself every day. I rolled my eyes at this task, but when I sat down that first night to write down my three things I was in a quandary. I couldn't think of a single one! So I tried to go through my laundry list of achievements. But no matter what achievement I looked at, I found a way in which it wasn't good enough. I should have done better. In the hour I sat there, I turned every last accomplishment I'd ever had into a personal failure, right down to my first place trophy for my seventh grade basketball team's undefeated season. (Yes, I was digging that deep to find something to be proud of that I could love about myself.) After running out of accomplishments, I then went to tear down every aspect of my physical appearance, from my wild curly brown hair to my big ugly feet.
That was the moment I made my first outreach call to a woman named Diane. Looking back I almost feel sorry for that poor woman. As soon as I verified who I was speaking with I broke down into a loud wailing sob and announced "I don't love anything about myself!" It is to her credit that she didn't even miss a beat. I can't remember what she said that day, but it was apparently exactly what I needed to hear. After getting off the phone I sat down and came up with my three things I loved about myself. 1) My purple sparkly toenails (I usually have my toes painted). 2) The three freckles on my left foot that form a straight line diagonally across my foot. 3) The way my wrists pop and I can make little popping sound music with them. The next day, the cluster of freckles on my right leg that look like they could make a smiley face if you connected the dots was at the top of my list. Of all my accomplishments, these were the things that I could identify as something I loved about myself.
Not once during the time with my first sponsor did I ever reach a point where something about my personality or my accomplishments was found on that list. Yet still, I didn't see that my life was unmanageable. I left program ten pounds lighter but no better off emotionally. I got married. Had a baby. Lost the baby weight while nursing. Then within a matter of months gained almost all of it back. To put this in perspective, I weighed 230 when I got pregnant. I weighed 290 when I gave birth. I weighed 220 when I stopped nursing 6 months later, and 250 when I went back to OA 3 months later after having been completely incapable of keeping that weight from coming back.
Yet still, I wasn't ready to let go. I thought to work the program on my own, and for two months I was able to maintain a personal abstinence while not getting any healthier mentally or emotionally and while only losing five pounds. I realized I had to do something. So I sought out my current sponsor and asked her to take me on. As I discussed in my earlier post (here), I allowed myself to go off the deep end.
I can remember the exact moment that I realized both my powerlessness and the unmanageableness of my life. My husband and I were in Honolulu. We had just eaten dinner and were walking back to our hotel. I was quite full, but we had discussed getting Coldstones on the way back from dinner. I didn't really want the ice cream, but seeing as how we'd already said we were going to get some I didn't feel up to backing out. So I walked into the store not wanting the ice cream. I ordered the ice cream - and not the smallest size either - thinking I would rather not have the ice cream. Then, I proceeded to finish that ice cream while still thinking I don't want this. I didn't enjoy the ice cream, I didn't want it, but I couldn't stop myself. I ate it anyway.
That night I stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, and thought. The middle of the night is a terrible time to be alone with my brain. I realized that I was going to die unless I could find some way to stop eating. As the Big Book words it, I was finally licked. That night I waved the white flag and knew hopelessness and despair like I had never experienced before.
I had finally taken the first step.
While in a step study meeting focused on the Sixth Step (were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character), one speaker stated that we are always ready to have the consequences of our defects removed if not the defect itself. We cling to our defects like treasured friends. So too do we cling to the notion that we are not compulsive overeaters. We may want to have the symptom removed - our excess weight - but we are often not ready to admit that the excess weight was brought on by our powerlessness over food.
I have heard the road to recovery begins when you take that step into the door of your first meeting. But the fact remains that recovery simply will not happen until you are able to admit that there is something you need to recover from. As the Big Book says, "Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely." (Page 58)
I walked into my first meeting to be moral support for a friend. A very clever friend who knew exactly what I was even if I didn't know it myself. At the end of the meeting, I was able to declare with absolute certainty that I was a compulsive overeater. I marched up to the speaker and asked her to be my sponsor that very same meeting.
The problem was, I didn't necessarily believe that I was powerless over food, and I most certainly didn't believe that my life was unmanageable! I had done quite well for myself - or so I believed. All I needed was someone to help me with a food plan and to give me accountability. Then I would lose my weight, keep following my food plan, and not need to worry about silly things like meetings. You see, I had it all figured out.
Every time I asked my sponsor when we would start doing step work, she would tell me that we were: we were working on the first step. I would protest, "but I already admitted I was a compulsive overeater." She would just smile and tell me to trust her. So for months I was performing exercises designed to show me that my life was unmanageable. I just didn't realize that was what we were doing.
The exercise that caused me the most pain and suffering was so innocuous that I never suspected what I was in for. I was told to perform one simple task: write down three things you love about yourself every day. I rolled my eyes at this task, but when I sat down that first night to write down my three things I was in a quandary. I couldn't think of a single one! So I tried to go through my laundry list of achievements. But no matter what achievement I looked at, I found a way in which it wasn't good enough. I should have done better. In the hour I sat there, I turned every last accomplishment I'd ever had into a personal failure, right down to my first place trophy for my seventh grade basketball team's undefeated season. (Yes, I was digging that deep to find something to be proud of that I could love about myself.) After running out of accomplishments, I then went to tear down every aspect of my physical appearance, from my wild curly brown hair to my big ugly feet.
That was the moment I made my first outreach call to a woman named Diane. Looking back I almost feel sorry for that poor woman. As soon as I verified who I was speaking with I broke down into a loud wailing sob and announced "I don't love anything about myself!" It is to her credit that she didn't even miss a beat. I can't remember what she said that day, but it was apparently exactly what I needed to hear. After getting off the phone I sat down and came up with my three things I loved about myself. 1) My purple sparkly toenails (I usually have my toes painted). 2) The three freckles on my left foot that form a straight line diagonally across my foot. 3) The way my wrists pop and I can make little popping sound music with them. The next day, the cluster of freckles on my right leg that look like they could make a smiley face if you connected the dots was at the top of my list. Of all my accomplishments, these were the things that I could identify as something I loved about myself.
Not once during the time with my first sponsor did I ever reach a point where something about my personality or my accomplishments was found on that list. Yet still, I didn't see that my life was unmanageable. I left program ten pounds lighter but no better off emotionally. I got married. Had a baby. Lost the baby weight while nursing. Then within a matter of months gained almost all of it back. To put this in perspective, I weighed 230 when I got pregnant. I weighed 290 when I gave birth. I weighed 220 when I stopped nursing 6 months later, and 250 when I went back to OA 3 months later after having been completely incapable of keeping that weight from coming back.
Yet still, I wasn't ready to let go. I thought to work the program on my own, and for two months I was able to maintain a personal abstinence while not getting any healthier mentally or emotionally and while only losing five pounds. I realized I had to do something. So I sought out my current sponsor and asked her to take me on. As I discussed in my earlier post (here), I allowed myself to go off the deep end.
I can remember the exact moment that I realized both my powerlessness and the unmanageableness of my life. My husband and I were in Honolulu. We had just eaten dinner and were walking back to our hotel. I was quite full, but we had discussed getting Coldstones on the way back from dinner. I didn't really want the ice cream, but seeing as how we'd already said we were going to get some I didn't feel up to backing out. So I walked into the store not wanting the ice cream. I ordered the ice cream - and not the smallest size either - thinking I would rather not have the ice cream. Then, I proceeded to finish that ice cream while still thinking I don't want this. I didn't enjoy the ice cream, I didn't want it, but I couldn't stop myself. I ate it anyway.
That night I stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, and thought. The middle of the night is a terrible time to be alone with my brain. I realized that I was going to die unless I could find some way to stop eating. As the Big Book words it, I was finally licked. That night I waved the white flag and knew hopelessness and despair like I had never experienced before.
I had finally taken the first step.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Oatmeal - Yum Yum
So I love my oatmeal. I save it as my last meal of the day because it sits so nicely in my stomach as I go to bed and soothes me right to sleep.
Tonight as I was eating oatmeal, a bit fell onto the ground. So I picked it up and was going to eat it - just had to pick that one stray dog hair off of it. And then I stopped and said "eew - what the hell are you doing?"
One month ago I totally would have eaten that piece of oatmeal [after picking out the hair]. I never would have even stopped to think about how gross that is. I decided tonight that I didn't have to. I'm not sure if it's progress, but it sure is a tiny bit less gross.
Tonight as I was eating oatmeal, a bit fell onto the ground. So I picked it up and was going to eat it - just had to pick that one stray dog hair off of it. And then I stopped and said "eew - what the hell are you doing?"
One month ago I totally would have eaten that piece of oatmeal [after picking out the hair]. I never would have even stopped to think about how gross that is. I decided tonight that I didn't have to. I'm not sure if it's progress, but it sure is a tiny bit less gross.
We Have Recovered
Working with my sponsor, I have made the first run through Section I of the Big Book and I'm now making my second round. At first I believed it would be a futile exercise - I read it carefully the first time through. . . what did she think I was missing?!? But I didn't argue - mine is not to wonder why, mine is but to do or die. [Literally.]
I went through the preface, nodding with my great wisdom born of a whopping 38 days of abstinence! Then I got to the first sentence of the Foreword to the First Edition and it stopped me cold.
"We of [Overeater's] Anonymous . . . have recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body." I am not recovered yet. I am far from recovered. But when I first read that sentence I glossed over it. It meant nothing to me - I wanted to get to the meat. I wanted the answers. But I missed the first and most important answer of all: this malady is only seemingly hopeless.
I had envisioned a pitched battle with this disease that would go on the rest of my life, with abstinence held together only by duct tape and a bent paper clip MacGyver style. I never imagined that in less than a month the miracle would happen. I honestly didn't understand what "the miracle" meant. In my mind I thought it was just the weight loss. It never occurred to me that something actually miraculous would occur!
The miracle is clarity of mind. The insanity that rages constantly in my mind tuned down the volume from a 10 to a 1. It is still there, and Marion - my disease - is constantly lurking and waiting for the opportunity to jump back into dominance. But for now, she is silent.
I was right in a sense - there is a pitched battle going on for my life, and Marion wants to kill me. But this is only a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. If I follow directions, work the steps, and keep coming back she is going to be held at bay. And there is absolutely a pitched battle going on, but it isn't being held together by duct tape and a bent paper clip. It is being silently waged in the background, and as long as I make sure my Higher Power's voice and my sponsor's voice are coming through loud and clear it's going to stay that way.
That is the miracle. Thank God.
I went through the preface, nodding with my great wisdom born of a whopping 38 days of abstinence! Then I got to the first sentence of the Foreword to the First Edition and it stopped me cold.
"We of [Overeater's] Anonymous . . . have recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body." I am not recovered yet. I am far from recovered. But when I first read that sentence I glossed over it. It meant nothing to me - I wanted to get to the meat. I wanted the answers. But I missed the first and most important answer of all: this malady is only seemingly hopeless.
I had envisioned a pitched battle with this disease that would go on the rest of my life, with abstinence held together only by duct tape and a bent paper clip MacGyver style. I never imagined that in less than a month the miracle would happen. I honestly didn't understand what "the miracle" meant. In my mind I thought it was just the weight loss. It never occurred to me that something actually miraculous would occur!
The miracle is clarity of mind. The insanity that rages constantly in my mind tuned down the volume from a 10 to a 1. It is still there, and Marion - my disease - is constantly lurking and waiting for the opportunity to jump back into dominance. But for now, she is silent.
I was right in a sense - there is a pitched battle going on for my life, and Marion wants to kill me. But this is only a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. If I follow directions, work the steps, and keep coming back she is going to be held at bay. And there is absolutely a pitched battle going on, but it isn't being held together by duct tape and a bent paper clip. It is being silently waged in the background, and as long as I make sure my Higher Power's voice and my sponsor's voice are coming through loud and clear it's going to stay that way.
That is the miracle. Thank God.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
The Oatmeal Wars
When I did my thirty day weigh in, I discovered I'd lost 16.6 pounds. My husband, seeing the results, announced that he would follow my diet as well to lose some of the weight he has gained. I am obviously supportive. In the past two years he has gained thirty pounds, and he was already about thirty pounds overweight then. He went from a size L to a size 2X.
The problem is, his interpretation of "follow my diet" is have me prepare his meals for him. There are some aspects I don't mind. For instance, I was already packaging up the chicken and rice into correct sized servings. It was not difficult to place them together in a tupperware container for his lunch. (Although the principle that he is unwilling to measure his own meat and rice does bother me.)
But he won't make oatmeal in the morning. The process of oatmeal is as follows: add 2 cups water to 1 cup oatmeal in a bowl. Microwave 2 minutes. Stir. Microwave 1 minute. Stir. Let it cool. Add banana. Eat. That is too much for him to manage in the morning. Instead, he wants to drive to McDonald's and get an Egg McMuffin. I will agree - an Egg McMuffin is far tastier than unseasoned oatmeal sans milk. But he acts as though he is saving huge quantities of time by waiting in line for the drive-thru. It takes about ten minutes to get the food and get to work. He is not saving any time by avoiding the oatmeal, and he is spending more money than he needs to (and we are most certainly on a tight budget).
The part that upsets me about this is how much pressure he has placed on my shoulders to make sure he has his food. If I don't have his lunch packed for him and I don't have his oatmeal made for him, then he's going to not be able to follow the diet (heaven forbid he should drive four blocks to El Pollo Loco at lunch to get his own chicken) and will continue to gain weight and move closer and closer to the diabetes that runs in his family.
So I will be praying to my higher power tonight to help with this resentment. I am going to see this as my service to him, and part of making amends for all the times I am snippy with him. Hopefully that helps.
The problem is, his interpretation of "follow my diet" is have me prepare his meals for him. There are some aspects I don't mind. For instance, I was already packaging up the chicken and rice into correct sized servings. It was not difficult to place them together in a tupperware container for his lunch. (Although the principle that he is unwilling to measure his own meat and rice does bother me.)
But he won't make oatmeal in the morning. The process of oatmeal is as follows: add 2 cups water to 1 cup oatmeal in a bowl. Microwave 2 minutes. Stir. Microwave 1 minute. Stir. Let it cool. Add banana. Eat. That is too much for him to manage in the morning. Instead, he wants to drive to McDonald's and get an Egg McMuffin. I will agree - an Egg McMuffin is far tastier than unseasoned oatmeal sans milk. But he acts as though he is saving huge quantities of time by waiting in line for the drive-thru. It takes about ten minutes to get the food and get to work. He is not saving any time by avoiding the oatmeal, and he is spending more money than he needs to (and we are most certainly on a tight budget).
The part that upsets me about this is how much pressure he has placed on my shoulders to make sure he has his food. If I don't have his lunch packed for him and I don't have his oatmeal made for him, then he's going to not be able to follow the diet (heaven forbid he should drive four blocks to El Pollo Loco at lunch to get his own chicken) and will continue to gain weight and move closer and closer to the diabetes that runs in his family.
So I will be praying to my higher power tonight to help with this resentment. I am going to see this as my service to him, and part of making amends for all the times I am snippy with him. Hopefully that helps.
Monday, January 14, 2013
At Home Chicken And Rice Is Nice!
For those who are interested, here is the recipe:
Chicken
Chef Merito chicken seasoning: This seasoning can be purchased in the Mexican
Food section of almost any grocery store. I purchased mine at Food 4 Less.
3 TBS Chef Merito Chicken Seasoning
2 C. Orange Juice
1 C. Lemon Juice
2 C. Canola Oil
Place ingredients in blender on low speed.
Marinade for 4 hours or overnight if using chicken with skin.
If you are using boneless skinless chicken breasts, this marinade will cover 2 packs of chicken from the store. Lay the chicken out in 2 pyrex baking dishes and pour the marinade over the chicken.
Then preheat the oven to 375 - the amount of time this takes is just about the right amount of marinade time.
Bake the chicken for 50 minutes.
Remove from oven and place in large frying pan [I used the rice pan] - add in marinade and cook an additional 5 minutes or so until cooked to your liking. You may also barbeque the chicken or cook in broil setting for the last few minutes instead.
Rice Preparation:
Prepare the following ingredients and set aside:
1. 3 Cups of water
2. 2.5 Cups of Long Grain Rice
3. 2 TBSP of Knorr Chicken Flavor Bouillon
4. 1 TBSP Garlic Powder
5. 1 TBSP Pepper
6. 2 8oz. cans of Tomato Sauce
7. If desired, add diced tomatoes and onion.
8. 1 TBSP Chili Powder
9. ½ TBSP Cumin
10. 1 TBSP Onion Powder
In a Teflon pot or big Teflon frying pan with a cover add a little canola oil with
the rice. Don’t add too much oil, you’re just trying to saturate the rice not
deep fry it.
Set your flame on high and continually move the rice around until
it browns. Remember, just brown it; it shouldn’t be get dark brown. It seems to be about right when you get a popcorn-like smell from the pan.
Add your water completely, then add tomato sauce.
Finally, add the remaining ingredients.
Continue to stir on high and bring to a boil. Reduce heat cover and simmer for
35 minutes. Fluff with a fork and serve.
To save on dishes, I let the chicken hang out in the marinade while the rice cooled a bit. I then measured the rice into 3/4 cup servings and placed in ziplock baggies for storage until the pot was empty. Then I finished cooking the chicken as well. The serving size for chicken is 6 ounces.
Chicken
Chef Merito chicken seasoning: This seasoning can be purchased in the Mexican
Food section of almost any grocery store. I purchased mine at Food 4 Less.
3 TBS Chef Merito Chicken Seasoning
2 C. Orange Juice
1 C. Lemon Juice
2 C. Canola Oil
Place ingredients in blender on low speed.
Marinade for 4 hours or overnight if using chicken with skin.
If you are using boneless skinless chicken breasts, this marinade will cover 2 packs of chicken from the store. Lay the chicken out in 2 pyrex baking dishes and pour the marinade over the chicken.
Then preheat the oven to 375 - the amount of time this takes is just about the right amount of marinade time.
Bake the chicken for 50 minutes.
Remove from oven and place in large frying pan [I used the rice pan] - add in marinade and cook an additional 5 minutes or so until cooked to your liking. You may also barbeque the chicken or cook in broil setting for the last few minutes instead.
Rice Preparation:
Prepare the following ingredients and set aside:
1. 3 Cups of water
2. 2.5 Cups of Long Grain Rice
3. 2 TBSP of Knorr Chicken Flavor Bouillon
4. 1 TBSP Garlic Powder
5. 1 TBSP Pepper
6. 2 8oz. cans of Tomato Sauce
7. If desired, add diced tomatoes and onion.
8. 1 TBSP Chili Powder
9. ½ TBSP Cumin
10. 1 TBSP Onion Powder
In a Teflon pot or big Teflon frying pan with a cover add a little canola oil with
the rice. Don’t add too much oil, you’re just trying to saturate the rice not
deep fry it.
Set your flame on high and continually move the rice around until
it browns. Remember, just brown it; it shouldn’t be get dark brown. It seems to be about right when you get a popcorn-like smell from the pan.
Add your water completely, then add tomato sauce.
Finally, add the remaining ingredients.
Continue to stir on high and bring to a boil. Reduce heat cover and simmer for
35 minutes. Fluff with a fork and serve.
To save on dishes, I let the chicken hang out in the marinade while the rice cooled a bit. I then measured the rice into 3/4 cup servings and placed in ziplock baggies for storage until the pot was empty. Then I finished cooking the chicken as well. The serving size for chicken is 6 ounces.
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